


Sam's Socks

by voltscribbles



Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Swap, Bodyswap, Bodyswapping, Foot Fetish, Gen, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 05:40:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16634003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voltscribbles/pseuds/voltscribbles
Summary: Sam finds out how her favourite pair of socks really feels.





	Sam's Socks

**Author's Note:**

> (This is a bodyswap fic, requested by toonsalot on tumblr. It has implications of foot fetish content, as well. This isn't a fic for everyone, so if this kind of content bothers you, please don't read it!)

Sam slid the last of the dishes into place in the cupboard and sighed. “That’s the last one!” she announced to the empty kitchen. She turned around and grinned – the kitchen practically sparkled, as it should have after the intense cleaning she had done. The whole house was now spick and span, and Sam was happy to check cleaning off her list of chores for the day. However, she was positively exhausted.  
“Maybe-“ she stifled a yawn – “maybe I should take a nap,” she mumbled, strolling to her bedroom.  
She plunked herself down on her tidily made bed and set an alarm on her phone. “Just a short one, though,” she said, setting her phone on the bedside table. “I’ve still got to deal with the fish, after all.” She lay down and quickly dozed off.  
Unbeknownst to the woman, she had left her phone on, and open to the Swap! application. “Swap Sam with…” the app read, with a camera icon waiting to be clicked following the sentence fragment.  
Sam tossed in her sleep, and swiped her hand across the phone’s screen, clicking the camera icon and knocking the phone to the ground. The camera flashed, and caught a picture of Sam’s favourite pair of socks.  
* * * * *  
Sam awoke to a feeling of being stretched. It wasn’t uncomfortable, per se, but it certainly felt strange. She opened her eyes to find that she was… on the floor?  
“How did I get-?” she began, but stopped herself as she realized that no words came from her mouth. “What the heck?”  
She contorted herself, flipping ungracefully onto her back. She gazed up at none other than herself, sitting against the side of the bed and running her hands through her sleek black hair.  
“Oh, hi, Sam,” her body said, in a voice that Sam both recognized as her own and found greatly unfamiliar. “Or should I say, socks?”  
“Wha-?” Sam looked down at her body – the body she was in, not the one towering above her. It wasn’t a body at all. It was soft fabric, with a striped pattern of navy blue, red, and white. She recognized it as the pattern of her favourite pair of… socks.  
She looked back up at the body above her. It was wearing her, she realized. She was being worn. She realized, too, how disgusting that sentiment was; the stretching feeling she had felt was that of her body being stretched over a foot, and the faint dampness she felt was the sweat of her former body. And the smell – God, the smell. Had she always had such a strong odour to her feet, or was she only just now noticing it because of her strange new predicament?  
She stared up at her body, whose mouth formed a smile that Sam had only ever seen in mirrors and photographs. The toes inside her wiggled, and then her body pushed itself onto its feet.  
Sam, the true Sam, was now a pair of socks. She had no mouth, and yet she screamed.  
* * * * *

The socks felt better than they ever had. Their old bodies were on their new feet, and they realized why the human girl had worn them so often. The cotton socks, which came up just below the knee, were warm, soft, and in nearly perfect condition – despite a bit of wear on the soles from all of Sam’s walking. They smiled with their new mouth and wiggled their new toes.  
With the sound of the girl’s screaming echoing in the back of their mind, the body that now belonged to the socks stood, stretched and sauntered out of the room. They had duties to fulfill now, the first of which was the feeding of Sam’s betta fish, Blue Raspberry. The socks vowed to enjoy every second of their new life, and they started by ignoring those annoying screams.  
The socks found their way to the living room easily, for they had been there many times before. It was strange to be in control of their actions rather than simply being worn around – strange, but nice.  
A little tank sat atop a CD case. In the tank swam a blue betta fish with raspberry-red fins. The socks smiled at the sight of the girl’s beloved pet, which swam to the front of the tank and posed when it saw its owner.  
“Hey, buddy,” they cooed, as Sam had done every day prior. “Ready to eat?” They giggled as Blue Raspberry let out a few bubbles in reply. They sprinkled some food into the tank, and watched the fish gobble it up.  
The socks grinned. They enjoyed these mundane tasks of being human. They planned to keep enjoying them for as long as possible.  
* * * * *  
Sam hadn’t stopped screaming since her body had started walking, but she had to now, as her throat was aching. She felt lightheaded, both from her hollering and from shock. The feeling of being walked in didn’t help things either; she felt the pain, not just in her throat, but all over. She had twisted sometime during the walk, resulting in her face being pressed to the floor repeatedly.  
Sam heaved a sigh – she was beginning to accept that she was going to be a pair of socks for a long, long time.


End file.
